


Commitment

by bannering



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-29 16:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8496781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bannering/pseuds/bannering
Summary: Aaron Hotchner finds out he has a daughter, and that she is about to get married. His one-night stand from years ago, Alicia, thinks that their daughter is about to make a huge mistake. Now, he has to get to know her and prevent her from making the biggest mistake of her life, with the unexpected help of Dr. Spencer Reid.





	1. One, Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> I have like, no idea what this is but it helped me get out (a little bit) of a funk, so here it is. It's not gonna be too long though, maybe five parts? Anyways, here is the first one.
> 
> Spencer only shows up at the next part :)

The first time Aaron saw her, it was through the display window of a bridal shop. 

The petite dark-haired woman was currently in the middle, literally, of a heated argument between two other women, who were gesturing wildly at the white dress while she stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror. 

Aaron couldn’t help but notice that the olive-skinned girl, her complexion taking after her mother’s, looked much too disinterested for someone who was going to get married in a few months. He profiled her, which felt wrong. But what was there for him to do after finding out he had a daughter? 

The agent kept staring at her, feeling every possible existing emotion. The woman, in her late twenties, an accomplished professional in her field, a responsible adult –according to the quick research he had Garcia do discreetly– and he felt as if he was staring at a baby, having discovered her existence not long ago. 

\-----

_‘You have a daughter, Aaron,’ Alicia said._

_It was the first time in almost three decades they’d seen each other. Aaron stared at her disconcerted, in the middle of that crowded coffee shop._

_That woman, the one he had had a fling with a long time ago, found herself back in his life again, throwing him a piece of information he couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to. And he did. He could barely handle being a single father to a small boy, his work life taking over completely. Aaron had a hard time being the father of one, he couldn’t possibly fathom what would be like having two kids._

_Worst yet, he had no idea how to be the father of a grown woman._

_‘Why now?,’ he asked sternly, desperate to get a hold of his emotions. ‘Do you and…_

_‘Cecilia.’_

_Cecilia, Aaron thought._

_It sounded like a pretty name, a strong name. When Hayley was pregnant and they were discussing names for the baby, before finding out the sex, she’d chosen Olivia; he, on the other hand, insisted on Amelia. Now, he had a daughter, but not with Hayley and her name wasn’t Olivia or Amelia. Everything was chaos._

_But he couldn’t help but think he loved that name._

_Cecilia._

_‘Do you and… Cecilia… need anything?’_

_Alicia rolled her eyes and let out a long sigh, visibly upset._

_‘No, Aaron,’ she said, emphasizing his name, clearly angry at him for even asking that. ‘We’re fine, we don’t need anything. I just thought it was time you knew.’_

_‘Why?’_

_‘Because she’s getting married.’_

\-----

And then she disappeared into the store. 

Aaron didn’t know what to do, and it wasn’t often that he’d find himself in that position. Absolutely dumbfounded. Having no clue of what was the next step he should take. ‘Talk to her’, Dave had said that morning, having gone through the same experience. He was the first person Aaron talked to after finding out about Cecilia, frantically looking for answers to questions he had no idea he had. 

It seemed easy, talking to her. Or at least simple. Nothing was easy in that situation. 

Aaron entered the bridal shop, the door causing a bell to ring upon his arrival. 

Everyone looked at him quickly and went back into the conversation they were having before. It was clear to him they had no idea who he was. But then, Cecilia came back, wearing another dress. She was holding the strapless dress in place, turning her back to a shop employee so she could tie her up. When she turned back around so everyone could look at her and comment on what was probably the tenth dress she’d tried on that morning, she saw him. 

It was clear to him she knew exactly who he was. 

\-----

_‘Why hasn’t she contacted me?,’ he asked, staring at his now cold cup of coffee. He couldn’t bring himself to eat or drink anything._

_Cecilia knew. She found out when she was sixteen, going through her mother’s stuff._

_She had known all this time._

_‘Because we don’t need or want anything from you, Aaron. We’re good,’ Alicia explained, a small smile making way on her face. He could see the pride in her eyes, himself feeling empty for not sharing the same pride. He didn’t know her. ‘We never really talked about this. One day, she came up to me, said she knew who her father was and then asked what was there for dinner. That was like, the full extent of our conversation about you. And that was ten years ago.’_

_He wanted to laugh. He felt that story was funny and quirky. But he was still processing._

_‘If I had to guess…’ Alicia continued, rolling her own cup of coffee on its own axis, creating a distraction that was impossible to look away from. ‘I’d say she didn’t want you to feel responsible for her. She never needed a father, you know. She barely needed me. That girl was born a responsible adult, she’s like 80 years old,’ the woman chuckled and looked at him. ‘Cecilia is not a huge fan of change, you know? And contacting you, having you in her life after all those years… That would probably be too much.’_

\-----

And it was.

Now staring at him was his 27-year old daughter, in a wedding dress, currently being pampered by her bridal party and few employees. She was beautiful, he thought. Beautiful and serious. 

“She talked to you,” Cecilia said, completely ignoring everyone else, focusing all her attention on the man in front of her. Her father. 

Her friends all fell silent, paying close attention to what was going on. 

“Yes,” he stated coldly. 

But he didn’t feel cold. On the contrary, Aaron felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He was curious and wanted to know everything about the woman in front of him, having missed so much of her life already. Aaron felt as if he was being given another chance at fatherhood, something he loved dearly even though all he could think about was how much he had failed the relationships he had with both his kids. Jack adored him, but Aaron felt he was never present, and that was true. And Cecilia… He had screwed up a relationship he had no idea even existed. But there they were. 

“She said she would leave it up to me. Talking to you. But she contacted you.” 

“Yes,” he repeated. 

“Why?” 

\-----

_‘I told her that it was her choice. Talking to you or leaving things as they were. It was her choice,’ Alicia explained, taking a sip of her latte. She took a long sigh. ‘All she said was ‘OK’, and I knew she would never, ever talk to you. And I felt bad, honestly. This has been hanging over my head for almost 30 years, Aaron. I… I want to apologize to you, but at the same time I feel I shouldn’t have to. We were young and reckless, and we never talked to each other after that night. I… Look. I did what I thought was best and I stand by it,” she said, and he nodded._

_He understood her side. That was why it was so hard for him. He understood both her side and his own._

_‘I wanted to tell you. I have been wanting to tell you for ages now. But I had decided to respect her decision. I wanted to leave it up to her.’_

_‘What changed?,’ he asked, feeling the catch about to be thrown at his face._

_‘The wedding,’ Alicia said, then she took another long sigh. ‘I think she’s making a huge mistake.’_


	2. Two, Sensitive

Cecilia was desperate. That was why she found herself standing in front of the FBI building at eleven o’clock at night. 

The turmoil inside of her had grown so large and overbearing, she was having a hard time breathing. She wasn’t having a panic attack, she thought to herself after going past security with the identification card Aaron had given her the day before. She was just a bit stressed out, but it was comprehensible.

As the elevator took her to the eighth floor of that intimidating building, she thought to herself she had no idea how to find him in there. There probably were tons of offices, all looking the same. The same boring walls and generic posters and stupid, stupid staplers. Dear God, how she hated the uniformity of government facilities. 

Ok, so maybe she was closer to having a panic attack than she had previously thought.

When the elevators doors opened, she found herself staring through the glass doors at a large room, with only a few lights on. It was late, she thought. He probably wasn’t there.

There was only one person there.

\-----

_‘What’s this?,’ she asked, taking from Aaron the ID he had just given her. They were sitting down on a large ottoman in the middle of the store, side by side. Her bridal party was having some champagne on the counter with the employees of the shop, and they were obviously talking about her. Her friends had a hard time being serious people, which annoyed Cecilia quite often. But they were her friends, and had been for a very long time. She’d ignore them._

_Specially since this was the closest Cecilia had ever been to her father. But she couldn’t bring herself to call him that. Not just yet, it was too much. She was having a hard time as it was trying to maintain her head above the water after he showed up at the bridal shop._

_The girl had chosen not to say anything when she found out who her father was. He owed her nothing, had no idea of her existence, and that was for the best. But now, there he was. It had been demanded of Cecilia to deal with a situation she had no interest in in the first place. She wasn’t good at handling change and big news, and that might have been the very first time in her life her mother had betrayed her._

_It sounded silly, perhaps. But that’s how she felt. Betrayed. Her wishes had been completely ignored._

_‘Um, you might want… I don’t know how you want to go about this…,’ he was visibly nervous, she noted. He hadn’t a clue on how to proceed in this situation, and neither did she. ‘But if you have any questions, or you want to talk, I’m there most of the time. At work, I mean. Or maybe, I don’t know, if you’d like to grab lunch, or coffee–I don’t know if you drink coffee, but–‘_

_‘Aaron,’ she interrupted him. He heard it, the way she said his name. It wasn’t like he was expecting she’d call him ‘Dad’ or anything, but her voice… It was how she said it that made him feel uncomfortable. ‘You haven’t answered my question.’_

_He looked at her intently. ‘The wedding. Your mother, she said I should know because you’re getting married,’ he explained, leaving out the most important part. He could see she was already mad at Alicia for what she had done, there was no point in bringing up the mistake her mother felt she was about to make by going through with the wedding._

_‘I don’t need you to walk me down the aisle.’ Her eyes were serious, and Aaron saw so much of him in her expression._

_‘I would never ask you for that. I don’t…’ He stopped and breathed. ‘This whole thing is entirely up to you. If you want me in your life or not. If you want me to walk you down the aisle or if you don’t want to invite me at all to your wedding. The extent of our relationship, Cecilia… Or lack thereof… Is your choice and your choice only. I’m just making myself available to you.’_

_She appreciated it and nodded. That was the first time he had seen her smile, even if it was just a tiny lift on the corners of her mouth. Almost undetectable. Almost._

\-----

“Excuse me, can I help you with anything?,” asked a tall, dark-haired man, walking towards her as she entered the bullpen. He looked like a teacher’s assistant. She knew that because that was exactly how her assistant dressed himself.

“Um…,” she began, biting the insides of her mouth. She was dreading ever showing up there, but that happened quite often to Cecilia. Sometimes, not a lot of times, but sometimes she would find herself at some place having no idea on how she got there in the first place. It was the unconscious need that drove her to a specific place. Sometimes, whenever she had a problem, she’d drive to her mother’s house, having no recollection of getting in the car whatsoever. And now, there she was. At the workplace of her father. After 27 years of absolutely no contact, she’d encounter him twice in two days. “I’m looking for Aaron Hotchner.”

“Oh, Hotch already left.” Hotch, she thought. Was that how his coworkers called him? “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Right. Of course, it’s late. He’s probably at home, right?,” she asked, and the stranger shot her a small smile. Aaron had given her his home address as well, but she felt it was too much. She probably would have met his son, her half-brother. At the thought of that, the overwhelming thought of meeting a young boy who had his father’s presence in his life ever since he was a baby, she began breathing a little faster. “You're, um…”

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” He gave her a nod, noticing the sudden shift in her behavior.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“You’re Cecilia, right?” he asked, tilting his head a bit. They all knew about her. Oh, dear God. They all knew, and they probably knew how poorly she handled everything. But did she handle it poorly? She couldn’t be sure, there was no right or wrong. But were they judging her for not contacting him? For knowing and doing nothing about it all these years? They must hate her. All of them. But they had no right, she did what she thought was right. Oh, god. Did that even matter anymore?

“Yes. I’m… Cecilia. That’s, yes… That’s who I am.” 

Her breathing quickly ascended. 

That was it, she was gonna have a full blown panic attack. She felt dizzy and cornered and she’d already taken a huge toll after keeping calm and collected in front of Aaron the day before, determined not to let him see how it all affected her. 

It was too much, everything. It had been too much for her to handle, she didn’t have what it took. She was nothing, a small child. Stupid, stupid, she thought. She was five all over again feeling her insides about to burst out of her. It happened on Mrs. Hunts class, at the new school, in front of a bunch of kids she didn’t know. It was about to happen again in front of another person she didn’t know. And her father’s coworker, nonetheless. Who knew who she was and who was probably judging her right at that moment.

Spencer took her arm and placed his hand on her back, leading her to the closest chair, but not before saying “Excuse me”. After she sat down, he kneeled in front of her. 

“Cecilia, listen to me. You need to do as I say, okay? Try to take a deep breath,” he said, a look of concern on his face. “Now breathe in… And out…,” he kept saying for a few minutes, holding her hand.

Cecilia was trying to imitate him and after a while, her breathing normalized and she could feel like herself again. And there it was, right on queue. 

The embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“No need to apologize. I know all too well about panic attacks,” he interrupted her, shaking his head. 

There was a sadness to him that Cecilia hadn’t detected before, an air of loneliness that she immediately recognized. She was the same.

“Do you want anything? Some water, maybe a cup of terrible coffee?,” Spencer asked. He couldn’t believe he had made a joke, but felt less insecure when she chuckled lightly.

“Water is fine.”

He stood up, released her hand and she stood up with him. 

Spencer was about to tell her to just stay there, sit down again, that he’d bring her the water, but when he turned around and looked at her, it was like he was seeing her for the very first time. The minute she walked in, he was too busy mentally comparing father and daughter, too wrapped up trying to find similarities between the two to really see her. And then he did see her, her determinate stance, her serious features, her stern but kind eyes. All those things she did share with Aaron, but that was not how Spencer saw it. 

He just saw it as hers, as Cecilia’s.

And that took his breath away for one second, long enough for him to forget about what he was gonna ask.

“Thank you,” she said when he gave her the bottle of water from the fridge, but he knew she meant more than that from the look on her face. He nodded slightly. “This… event should have ocurred yesterday, actually...” She chuckled. “There’s nothing like not having the attack at the right moment to make you anxious about when it is coming.”

Spencer smiled and drew himself some coffee. 

“I know. It’s… There’s this sense of getting over it already that quite soothes you after one.”

Cecilia smiled.

“It wasn’t you, by the way.” She felt the need to explain he hadn’t triggered anything. It had been a mere coincidence. “It was just…,” Cecilia began, but stopped. 

\-----  
_  
‘That dress looks pretty. I don’t really understand anything about dresses, but this feels like a good choice,’ he said, smiling. This was the moment. Aaron felt sad about bringing her down right after he made her smile, but he had a mission to accomplish, and at that moment he was trying to gauge her reaction. Was getting married a mistake?_

_She smiled at him, but only with her mouth. Her eyes, he could tell, they were as good as dead. Like the eyes of someone who was facing an unequivocal mistake, but had committed to it. She was stern and serious and, by God, she was miserable._

_'Do you not like this dress?,' he asked, still profiling her. It felt wrong, and yet. 'There are others, I guess. I’m sure you don’t have to commit to first ones you try on, even though it might seem too late. Sure, the wedding is coming up, but you have time.’ Aaron tried conveying as much significance into that sentence as he could, not really talking about the dress._

_'This one's fine.' She said, cutting him short. Cecilia looked away, the feeling of being scrutinized too much to even stare at him._

_After a couple moments of silence, Aaron spoke._

_'Do you know what I do for a living, Cecilia?’_

_‘Yeah. You work for the FBI.’_

_‘Yes. I work at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We profile the unknown subjects by studying their behavior, the weapon they choose, how they choose their victims. It’s a long list of things we take into account,' he said. At that point, he stared at his hands, playing with his wedding band. ‘We also utilize our skills during interrogation, analyzing their body language, the words they use, their microexpressions. It’s not hard for me to tell when someone is lying.’_

_That was it. He should have eased into it, perhaps he should have waited until they had an actual relationship. Aaron never hated himself so much than at that moment, looking at his daughter and seeing her eyes move rapidly, her mind trying to understand what he had just said. He knew he should have waited, but in order to do that, he needed more time. He didn’t have it. The wedding was supposed to take place in a month._

_‘You don’t want to get married,’ he said finally, the words leaving his lips and slapping her in the face, the dreadful reality of the situation finally said out loud._

_But she wouldn’t have it. Cecilia had never been so angry in her entire life. They had never met, had only been talking for a few minutes. Was this it? Is that how it was having a father? A man who had nothing to do with her in the first place, who shouldn’t have shown up there, who had no right to say anything. Who did he think he was…_

_‘Who do you think you are…'_

_To come here…_

_‘To come here…'_

_And tell her what was unconsciously going through the back of her mind ever since John proposed to her?_

_Cecilia took a deep breath._

_‘Please, leave.’_

_‘Cecilia…'_

_‘I won’t ask again.'_

\-----

Cecilia looked at the man in front of her.

“How is he like?,” she asked, holding her breath slightly, a bit terrified of the answer. But mostly, just curious.

“He’s… He’s a remarkable man, Cecilia. Stern, but fair. Serious, but a true friend when you need one,” Spencer said, sitting down at the table on the break room. It didn’t escape him he was being a bit too honest, specially considering he was talking to someone he had never met.

“Is he a good–how do you guys call it? Profiler?,” she asked, fidgeting with her hands.

“One of the best,” he answered honestly, eyeing her curiously. Cecilia, still standing, obviously uncomfortable, seemed at loss for words, nervous, uncertain. “Are you alright?”

She took a deep breath. “How does it work? Profiling?” She knew. Aaron had explained to her. But she needed more than one source in order to establish a pattern.

“What do you do for a living, Cecilia?,” he asked, a small smile forming on his face.

“I’m a professor at University of Virginia. Russian literature.”

“You seem… young to be a professor.” At the confusion on her expression, Spencer further explained himself: “Not that that is a bad thing! I-um, I myself was considered too young in my profession when I first joined the BAU, at 22. But I also have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory and can read up to 20,000 words per minute, so that… Um, that sort of accounts for…”

“So you’re saying I’m not a genius?,” she asked, eyebrows raised. At his flushed reactions, Cecilia just smiled. “I’m not, I’m just…. very focused.”

Spencer noticed her pause, the delay in finishing the sentence. That sentence that most people struggle with. Who am I? He couldn’t help but notice that the adjectives he thought might finish that sentence correctly for her, from what he could gather, were also the ones he would use for himself.

“Well, think of it like this. When we interrogate someone, it’s like we’re reading the lines the character says, right? When the unsub –that’s how we call the suspect, unknown subject– says something, it’s his perspective of it all, and it can contain a lie, a half-truth, a distorted view of a situation. However, when we profile them, we’re reading the narrative explained with the use of the third person. The narrator can’t lie, and neither can the small things we pick up from what the suspect does unconsciously –body language, the use of certain words and idioms, nervous ticks and manias, etcetera,” Spencer explained, his hands flying away at each explanation as if they had a life of their own. Cecilia couldn’t help but think that was cute, someone who spoke with their whole body. Even if he was wrong.

“As much as I appreciate you dumbing your explanation down for me, Dr. Reid,” Cecilia said, dryly and with a sarcastic tone that the blush on Spencer’s face let her know she wasn’t unheard. “There’s such a thing as an unreliable narrator. Not only in literature, but also in life. Is profiling an exact science?”

“Um- we can be wrong, and we have. But it’s not often, not nearly as one might expect.” The young doctor started biting the insides of his mouth, suddenly feeling extremely intimidated.

“So Aaron can be wrong?,” she questioned quietly, but not so much that he wouldn’t hear.

“About what?”

Cecilia looked at the young man in front of her, his prominent cheekbones, soft and sunken eyes. She never really quite experienced attraction in her life, she barely knew what it felt like. The young woman was focused and lived for her job and for literature, spending most of her days with her nose inside a book. John had been persistent, though. He was attracted to her and wouldn’t take no for an answer, and did he take plenty of nos from her. But eventually, Cecilia caved, and that was two years ago. It seemed like a natural progression, getting married, and she did care for her fiancé. But there was this thing at the pit of her stomach that she was feeling now, looking at the young doctor in front of her. She felt… weird.

“Nothing, really,” she said, walking to the chair where she recovered from her attack and picking up her bag from the floor. Spencer followed her closely, eyebrows furrowed. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Reid. Goodbye.” Cecilia turned around and made her way towards the elevator when she heard his voice, almost a whisper. “Pardon?”

“It’s-it’s Spencer. You can call me Spencer.” He smiled. So did she.

“Spencer. Goodbye, Spencer."

\-----  
_  
‘Oh my god, honey. Are you okay?,’ one of her friends asked after Aaron left. Cecilia smiled and nodded. She pointed at the dress she was wearing and engaged in a conversation with the seamstress, showing her what needed to be fixed in the dress she had finally chosen. ‘So, it’s this one, right?’_

_‘Yep.’_

_‘Finally,’ her friend sighed, rolling her eyes. ‘What kind of bride chooses her dress only a month away from her wedding? You are crazy, Cee.’_

_Cecilia laughed. Only with her mouth. Not with her eyes._

_Her eyes were as good as dead, and thank God no one was there to notice it anymore._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this!!!!!1


End file.
